Kistern

It had not been his intention to end up with the clan darling. Passing through, Kistern had planned only to stop at the Lair by the Sea for a short respite on his way... elsewhere. Somewhere that wasn't home.

But he had stopped here, and had become aware of the beautiful imperial girl. One didn't have to be at the Lair by the Sea long to know she was the daughter of one of its most storied members, and that both parents were still deeply involved in the clan's goings-on. And that they loved their daughter dearly and probably wouldn't take kindly to anyone breaking her heart.

It's not that he wants to break her heart. She was beautiful, and so eager to find a special drake. He let her eagerness talk him into it.

And now...? Now he is likely in trouble.

The best way to handle this--all right, not the best way, but the only way Kistern can think of--is to be found with another dragoness. He can't conceive of a more definitive way to drive home the point that he's not Jocasta's true love. He's just a drake who thinks she's pretty. She'll rage, will hate him, will probably drive him from the clan, but at least she won't be melancholic and suicidal and all those other things that young dragonesses sometimes are when they're abandoned by their 'true loves'. Someday, he thinks, she'll realize he wasn't her true love... just her first crush. Things will be easier then.

So Kistern chose Firia, who had been in season but for whom no one had spoken, and quickly vanished into the breeding caves with her. When the news spread and the gossips began talking, he heaved a sigh of relief. The scene when Jocasta confronted him would be difficult, but it would be quick, and then he'd be free.

Except the next time he saw her, she was still cheerful. 'I heard you helped Firia!' she said.

Bewildered, Kistern wondered if this was some new euphemism for 'having procreative sex' that he'd never heard. 'Ah... I went to nest with her. Yes.'

'That's wonderful!' Jocasta said, and rubbed her cheek against his. 'It was kind of you to give her eggs. I know she's been trying to decide who to nest with for a while now!'

'K-k-kind?' Kistern stammered.

'Yes?' She leaned back. 'Are you all right, beloved?'

'I mated with another dragoness!' he blurted. 'Why aren't you upset?'

'Upset!' She laughed. 'About that? But dragons breed with dragons they don't love all the time. You have to breed. It's how you survive, it's how the clan thrives. Sometimes you have to lie with dragons you don't know well or like, because the hatchlings will be good for the clan. Sometimes you lie with dragons because they need relief. It's meaningless, Kistern, unless you make it mean something. Was it different in your clan?'

He mumbled something she must have taken for confirmation, and suffered her wing draped over his back and her talk about their wonderful future together, and would he like help caretaking the nest? Jocasta is fond of Firia! She's sure they'll all have a wonderful time!

Oh, Singer, Kistern thought, despairing, I'LL NEVER BE RID OF HER

He's got no choice. He has to try something different. And the inspiration struck when he found the hideous black sweater lying discarded in the clan's apparel hoard. Dragonesses find brooding, dour, death-obsessed dragons childish and annoying, don't they? Because that sort of thing is seen as immature, and if there's one thing young dragons don't like, it's to be seen as immature, or been seen as interested in things that make them seem like adolescents.

Yes, Kistern thinks. This will work. Accessorized with some skulls... and a lot of black fabric... definitely. Jocasta will have one look at him and write him off as a nuisance.

The clothes didn't work... but Kistern finally found something that did.

'We have to go!' Jocasta cried. 'Kistern, come on! We might already be too late!!'

And he said: 'I can't.'

She didn't plead. She didn't cajole. She didn't yell at him. She just looked at him, eyes round and glistening with the tears that ran and ran and ran without her conscious notice. Looked at him as if he was a stranger--no, worse, like some creature she couldn't understand or place in reality. Like she couldn't fit him into a world where normal dragons lived. Where she did.

And then she'd flung herself into the sky and left him, and he knew this time she wouldn't be back.

Nothing he could have come up with himself would have pushed her from him the way his refusing to help with the Dream would have. Kistern was no coward; ordinarily he would have gone with her and not counted the risk or the cost. Dragons were in danger, and he was a drake, and it was duty. But he'd said he couldn't, because he knew if he didn't there would never be a life without Jocasta, and he just... couldn't... say yes to that.

Now... he would have to live with himself.

He wasn't sure how to do that either.

***

"Ooouuhhh what have I done....." Kistern thought for the umpteenth time. Of course, he was thinking of both moving to a ship in Water and not going with Jocasta to help the Dream. But right now, mostly the ship, as he heaved what little was in his stomach over the side. He hadn't been able to keep anything down for days.

"This is punishment," he thought. "I deserve worse, though." The dragons at Cloudy Zephyr were more than accommodating. This was an allied clan, however, and Kistern made sure to avoid encounters with dragons he knew came from the Dream and the Lair by the Sea. If any of the other dragons knew, though, they didn't show it. He had tried going back home first. After all that had happened, he wanted to be somewhere familiar, but he couldn't take the stares. They knew. So he fled. To a Water clan? He wasn't sure what he was thinking, but he was here now, and not going anywhere fast. He had heard they used to be a Wind clan. That must have been why he decided to come here. Still reaching for the familiar, for some comfort.

A passing tundra glanced his way, but said nothing. "Poor bloke," the tundra thought, "that one looks as if the whole of Sornieth t'were resting on 'is shoulders." If Kistern noticed, he didn't show it.

---

Kistern was slowly settling into a new way of life on the ship. He had even made a some friends, somewhat reluctantly; a couple of tundras that seemed as down and out as he was. Somehow, they had all taken to sitting at the prow, drinks in paw, trying to out-misery each other. Chev was all girls girls girls and his horrible bad luck with them. Kistern was not exactly sure where the other tundra, Omoikane, was from, but boy did he have some tales of misery, from women to sunken ships to first mates turned against him. Kistern never got close to telling the truth of his misery, however, no matter how much he drank. He made sure never to drink that much. It was always sea-sickness, or a some plant that had gone bad in the stores, and maybe veiled hints about a scorned lover. The company, while somewhat depressing, was still comforting.

He had just settled in next to Omoikane with this evening's maladies on the tip of his tongue, when Chev strode up, looking happier than he had since Kistern had met him.

"I just got word from my family! I have FOUR new sisters!" he exclaimed.

Omoikane stood up and held out a wing. "Well congrats, man! Come o'er here and tell us all about it! We need good news e'ry once in a blue moon! It makes the sad news that much sadder! Har har!"

He pulled Chevalier in and pushed a mug in his claws. Kistern was only half listening. He really didn't want to hear news about family and old clans, even if they weren't his own. And then he heard a name. Jocasta. His stomach immediately turned to ice, and his mouth filled with sand. Omoikane slapped him on the back.

"What'ser matter, Kist? You look like you jus' sawr a ghost!" The one-eyed tundra was looking at him curiously. Chev had stopped talking, Omoikane had interrupted him.

"Nununu..no, no. I'm fufufine," he stammered.

"Hey Kistern, your feathers are looking a little pale. Are you sure you're ok?" asked a concerned Chevalier.

Kistern turned to look at the tundra, truly seeing him for the first time. The eyes, the slight accent, the mannerisms that gave him away as a dragon from the Dream. How could he not have noticed?

"I..I'm sorry, I hahave to go..!" Kistern started to stumble away, flashes of Jocasta and the Dream and the Lair by the Sea, all dancing in front of his eyes, staring at him, judging him. Chev jumped up to catch him, but Kistern pushed him away.

"No! Leave me alone!" he snarled.

All of a sudden, Omoikane was standing right in front of him, blocking his way.

"Now, tha' ain't no way to talk to a friend, bub. Now, why don' you sit and tell us what's really going on."

Kistern looked into the hard eye of the sailor, and then to the concerned eyes of the younger tundra.

"No! Please! Just let me go! I..I can't! You'll hate me! *gulp* I've done a terrible thing! Please! Let me leaheaheave..." Kistern sank to the deck sobbing. Chev draped a wing over him, Omoikane still stood guard, in case he tried to flee again.

"Kistern, it's ok. I promise! We won't hate you," crooned the young tundra. Kistern heard a bit of Jocasta in her brother's voice. It spurred him.

"You don't know what you say, Chev! You don't know! *sob* Your sister. I mated with her. She was there, we were both ready. It was supposed to be a one time thing, but she didn't think of it that way. I was there, Chev. *gasp sob* I was there when the Dream fell. And I didn't go. I didn't go so that your sister would leave me, because I couldn't get rid of her any other way! I couldn't! I didn't go! Chev, I DIDN'T GO TO HELP THE DREAM AND I WAS RIGHT THEREHERHERE." Kistern crumpled into a soggy mess. Omoikane let down his guard. Chev just sat there dumbstuck.

---

Just when you were starting to get used to things around here. You told yourself, don't get comfortable. This is what happens. Kistern was back at his quarters. He gruffly scrubbed tears from his cheeks in between shoving his things into a bag. He didn't know where he would go. And he was just starting to like the rocking of the waves. Idiot. You should have kept your big beak shut. Kistern heard a knock at the door. He whirled around to see Chevalier.

"You don't have to chase me out. I am leaving of my own accord," sniffed Kistern.

"Kistern, you don't have to do that. I...I want to apologize..."

"You? Apologize?? For what??"

"For..for everything. For being a lousy friend. For Jocasta, because I know exactly how she thinks. For the things I said after you told me who you were and what you had done. I'm sorry!"

Kistern took a step towards the tundra, but stopped. "But I deserved all those things...for what I did... I am a lousy dragon..." Kistern's head dropped.

Chev walked the rest of the way in and draped a wing over the Skydancer's back.

"What you did to the Dream....it was bad. I'm not going to deny that. But I can tell you are a good dragon deep down, that you are truly sorry, and that you are my friend."

"I don't deserve your forgiveness."

"Maybe not. But no dragon is perfect. And I have a lot of apologizing to do to my other friends. I've been buried so deep inside my own head, that I have pretty much abandoned everybody in this clan, too. Maybe that is why it is easier for me to forgive you."

---

"I still don't understand why you are still going!" said Chev.

"I think it is best that I go, and at least now I am not leaving in anger or sadness. I think I want to make my way back home, but just take my time doing it. Wander a bit. You should come with me!"

"Aww, I wish I could...but, you see...I just met this girl..." Chev was dragging a claw over the deck.

Kistern winked at the young tundra. "Ah, young love. Get a couple nests under your belt, and then come see me!"

The ship that Cloudy Zephyr calls home had made a stop near the Wind Lands. Many dragons in the clan gazed longingly over the Windswept Plateau. Kistern disembarked with a farewell wave and was gone.



It was all well and good, saying the good-byes, acting like he wouldn't miss the sway of the ship he'd just gotten used to. But now, elbow deep in the swaying grass of the steppe. 'Maybe', Kistern thought, looking out at the endless green, maybe I was too quick to bolt'. He spared a glance back at the sea, but the Cloudy Zephyr had long since slipped over the horizon and night was coming.

"…. I should have at least waited until we were near a port." He said, taking wing and heading towards the distant fractures of the Reedcleft Ascent.

It all happened so fast. That furious shriek startled him into panicked landing just as he reached the bamboo clusters As he stood there, heart in mouth, a mirror dragon had leapt out of the shadows at him. Without breaking her stride, she'd lowered her shoulder and plowed him down. Snatching at his wings, she dragged him from under the pounding hooves that came crashing from the forest behind her. Like a screeching dervish, she pulled him along by by his scarf, the latter shredding almost instantly between her clenched teeth. She half dragged and half-tossed him behind her and turned back, jaws open in warning and with a snarl of pleasure. Spitting shreds of sod, Kistern could hear but not see the cacophony happening behind them. He tried to climb back to his feet and let out an involuntary yip as pounced backwards and dug her claws into his back. She mantled him with her wings, as the air around them crackled in the heat of Imperial fire.

Her weight suddenly lifted from his back as she leapt away with pleased whoop. Finally able to lift his sore head up, he saw the center of the blasted area of burned grass was a quivering, unicorn-like creature pinned beneath a red imperial's fore-claws, the grass around them still smoking and steaming from his breath. The dragon pack that suddenly swarmed around them tidied the animal up; separated it from the fronds of weed around it, dusted off the ash and cheerfully hogtied the bleating creature to the flank of a waiting porter.

And then they turned to look at him.


He let his head fall down with a pained moan and only blearily registered the bearded muzzle of a guardian as it came into his line of sight. He cried out and tried to kick feebly when the muzzle gently nudged him. It's breath had a warm, earthy smell as the guardian sighed onto him and his body mercifully went numb and the overwhelming desire to sleep curled around his mind. He only dimly noticed when he was also lifted up, legs and wings folded in and was placed into a sling beneath the guardian's wing.

Despite it all... and before he fell unconscious beneath the warm white canopy.... Kistern was annoyed that his knapsack had been trampled in the scuffle....



"Hey Kistern!" She said, dragging a squirming carry net over to him. "Since you've been here so long, you get to do something else for the group."

Kistern reined in the impulse to pout.

It wasn't bad here, even with all of the hustle from the constant moving and the weird hierarchy that he hadn't figured out yet. No one bothered him or had even asked him to do much, save the big yellow guardian who flatly refused to reimburse him for his damaged belongings when he arrived. But she did offer him a new chestplate and scarf, provided he stuck around to pay them off. She had been less forthcoming about what that task could be to pay them off...so he hadn't really done anything. Tidying scrolls here and there, running small messages for the Retinue. Lightly scouting for fruiting trees on gathering excursions at the Huntmaster's discretion.

...... That thing with the pearlcatcher had been sort of accidental really. Sekishi was nice and made an excellent morning-after tea and toasted watercress and caddisfly breakfast, but it had been fairly clear that there was no long term... or even short-term interest for either of them. He'd just been grateful it hadn't turned into another Jocasta situation to question it too deeply, though he did feel a tiny bit used.

Nonetheless, he had been feeling awkward about freeloading, so he tried not to look too uncomfortable as the Huntmaster seized a corner of the net and shook the longneck out.

Sauvignon straightened her collar. "Teach it to mind." She said, with a wink with half of her eyes and went back to her pack.... and Kistern found himself with a new pet.

By the sixth time he had tackled and pinned it Kistern had gotten fairly good at subduing longneck, the trick was to sweep their legs out from under them and grab one ear firmly in his beak to steer his back to camp, bleating and trying to kick the whole way. Why it was a standard practice to let them keep their axes was one of those big life mysteries though. It only tried to hack at him twice, and a warning growl from one of the other dragons nearby soon stopped that.

The longneck, who was named Matu, did finally relax as soon as he figured out Kistern wasn't going to eat him. And Kistern got to work teaching him how to speak Draconian and... in general, have some decent manners.



Longnecks were clever, in their own way, able to quickly tie knots and make fine stitches with their small hooved hands. Matu was quiet but mindful and possibly the best familiar Kistern had ever worked on, or at least the most tolerant. Honestly though, he did wonder if the longneck understood him when he felt the need to mutter on all of his life's poor choices or had just learned to nod and mutter hmm at proper intervals. But Kistern did notice the wistful glances the familiar gave the distant horizon when they were in mid-move....

.... they were the same gazes he gave the road ahead of him as well....



Please don't misunderstand... they aren't... wrong.... I mean, they're a very nice Clan really. They have their issues, but all Clans do. I can hardly talk given what I've done, right? But there's just something I can't put my clawtip on. It was always more than just serving the Windsinger, I understood that, but there's something else happening here... and it's starting to make my feathers curl.

It started after that disaster in the Delta that Ehrde and her squad brought back... and the whole Clan's been like a disturbed nest of fire ants... if the disturbance was miles away. It's tense here, but not in a way that scared me for myself. Scarlatti still occasionally tries to pin me into listening to a concert with the coatls, even though it sounds like someone dropped a tuning fork into a cauldron with a load of gravel in it rolling down a hill. Saugivnon regularly invites me to hunts as a partner for her mate and when I decline and she sends one of her brood out to cajole me out to scout for fresh fruits and insects anyway. I still tend my borrowed familiar, and I guess the chestplate and scarf are mine now because the Vaultmaster said I did not owe anything for it anymore.

But I also see them staring out into the distance in the evenings, with a glint of fangs bared to the windswept night....


I...tried... I really did try... It's not their fault, but I can't stay here... not around them. Everything about them feels wrong.... and I can't-we can't, Culurien already fled into the night to escape-

it hurts. It pounds on me like a hammer day and night, driving the needle spike of their pain right between my eyes...